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A Spell of Time

Page 12

   


I stood up and walked over to a mirror, getting up close and staring at Derek’s face, rubbing his skin, willing myself to see even the slightest bit of transformation.
Come on, Derek.
It was now almost ten o’clock. I’d missed preparing the twins’ dinner. They would be wondering where on earth I was. Derek might even be out searching for me now.
“Why am I not changing back?” I asked, wringing my sweaty hands.
Even Ibrahim looked worried now.
“Where did you get that hair of Derek’s?” Ibrahim asked.
“From his head.”
His brows furrowed. “And where did you get Kiev’s?”
“Mona plucked one of his leg hairs.”
“Hm.”
“What?”
“See, I suspect that hair from the head is more potent than leg hair.”
My throat went dry. “How much longer will it take?” I croaked. “Will I be myself again in time for lunch tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.”
“But isn’t there some antidote? Can’t you just force me back?”
“We can,” Corrine said, walking over to me and placing an arm around my shoulder. “But this type of spell is best left to wear off naturally. Sometimes, forcing reversion of a spell of this type can have… negative side effects.”
“What side effects?”
“Well… let’s just say that Queen Sofia could end up with some rather unsightly stubble.”
I cursed beneath my breath. I looked up at the clock again. Thank God I didn’t invite them over for dinner.
“Can’t Mona do something? Surely she must—”
“I’m sure she can. But again, it’s not without the risk of side effects, same as if I tried to force you back.”
“But I will turn back, right?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Yes,” Ibrahim said. “Don’t worry. The spell will wear off. It’s just a matter of time.”
Time. That’s just what I don’t have.
Chapter 9: Caleb
As we were hauled up into the belly of the helicopter, I looked around the dim aircraft. Three men stood dressed in black. Masks covered their faces. The door closed beneath us and they began circling the cage.
“Who are you?” I snarled.
The man nearest me approached the bars, his light blue eyes boring into mine.
“It was foolish of you to come to this beach again.”
“Answer me.”
He chuckled and exchanged glances with the other men. “Let’s go!” he shouted.
The aircraft lurched, and we began ascending. Blood pounded in my ears, my mouth parched, heart racing.
“You can tell them who we are,” a brown-eyed man said, looking me over.
Blue Eyes approached the cage again. Withdrawing a dagger from his belt, he ran it across my fingers where they gripped the bars, slitting a line through my skin. It stung, but I refused to flinch.
“You’ve hit this beach one too many times, vampire. You should have expected that someone would have clued in by now. You think you can just rip apart families with no consequences?”
“Who are you?” I repeated.
He paused, looking back at the other men before answering. “As you are snakes, we are hawks.”
Hawks. I caught a glimpse of a black tattoo on his wrist. The brand of a hawk.
So these are hunters. In all our years of kidnapping, we’d never once met a hunter. Their order had been shut down almost two decades ago. I supposed it was only a matter of time before we provoked them enough to reform.
“What are you going to do with us?” Demarcus grunted, sweat dripping down his forehead.
Ignoring him, the hunters exited the chamber through a door to our left. I stared at the eight vampires who shared the cage with me. Frieda whimpered in one corner. She looked close to unconsciousness.
I’d known it was a mistake going to that beach again. I’d felt it in my bones. And yet I’d risked it anyway—my life, and those of my fellow vampires.
None of us exchanged a word until the aircraft started to descend. My stomach lurched as we took a dive, and several minutes later, the aircraft shuddered as we hit land.
Footsteps sounded overhead and two men entered the chamber. They circled the cage, attaching metal chains to the bars. A side door opened. Several more men came down the steps and entered the room. They all gripped the chains now attached to the bars of our cage and slid us roughly down a ramp. We hit the ground. We had to grip onto the bars to prevent ourselves from falling on top of each other. Frieda was too weak. She slid across the floor and her head smashed against the bars.
As they dragged us away from the aircraft, I stalked around the edges of the cage. We’d landed on a cliff. The sea glistened beneath the waning moon in the distance, and there was a steep drop a few hundred meters away. I looked around at our captors. Now ten of them had debarked from the helicopter and were staring at each of us through the bars.
The blue-eyed man pulled off his mask. His jaw was square and covered with a bristling black beard. His skin was tan, his nose long and pointed. The other men followed his lead, revealing their own faces for the first time. All of them were men except for one. The female hunter looked as tough as the men. Hardened features, marred with scars. They were built like military veterans.
They gathered together in a huddle and started talking in hushed tones. Though of course I could hear every word they spoke.